What do we do with our wounds?
The ones we keep working on that keep opening?
The pain of the inflaming and the suffering of the repetition?
The cycling that feels defeating?
Hijacked back to that same old place,
where our body aches, and time and space
distort and waver.
Hang on tight until it’s over, tired.
Survey the damage done and try to move on until the next one.
These waves. They don’t stop.
I try to remember that the waves have become longer,
That each time they roll out, I’m still here and am stronger.
That healing happens in what they surface.
That each returning wave has a purpose.
Though it may be hard to see.
That all I need to do is breathe.
Sometimes I need to unleash my own waves. Allow this torrent to move from my gut, gather momentum as it moves through my throat, and emerges in sound. Purges in tears and whimpers and wails until I am empty and clear like the post-storm sea.
Tender surrendered and clean as each wave washes over me.
About the Author:
Ashley Green is a LISCW specializing in trauma with a gentle approach that helps you sift through life’s experiences to uncover your true self. You can learn more about Ashley and her experience here.
